Here, Kitty, Kitty
by Baloo
Summary: Max wanted a simpler life. She got her wish. She reaaaally ought to have been more specific.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Here, Kitty, Kitty   
Genre: Humor… and other stuff too.   
Rating: PG-13   
Pairing: M/A-ish. Dunno for sure yet. Maybe M/A, maybe just M/A-friendship.   
Status: wip   
Summary: Max wanted a simpler life. She got her wish. She reaaaally ought to have been more specific. 

A/N: So, what do I say about this little adventure…? Still working on TDTMFT, don't worry about that. This is just a side-project. Unsure of how long it'll be at this point, but I have at least a few more chapters in mind. Should warn you though that it's a bit…different. And you'll see soon why I wrote that note regarding the pairing.

It's also rather rough and unbeta'd, as I'm flying by the seat of my pants here. I figured I shouldn't invest too much time in the side project when I already have plenty on my plate as it is.

* * *

**

  
Here, Kitty, Kitty 

**

- 1 -

Life was not fair, Max decided.

The wind whipped against her face, making her eyes sting and her nose run, and she had the urge to wipe it on her sleeve. And did so a moment later, because it wasn't as if anyone could see anyway, and she wasn't going to stop to search for a tissue that she most likely didn't have.

Life was oh so unfairly NOT FAIR—when she had to admit that she was wrong, and that Alec…

Her lips twisted in a grimace and she forced herself to swallow past the bitter taste in her mouth.

… And that Alec was right.

She shuddered.

Because _Alec_ had been the one who thought she should tell Logan the truth about "them" and this phantom relationship that he seemed to think he'd stumbled across. And she had told him that she knew what she was doing (implying that he didn't), and that she would take care of it on her own (hinting that she'd do the same for him if he didn't back off), and that he owed this much to her anyway (dredging up old guilt and stirring the still waters beneath the proverbial bridge).

All that for what? To realize that he had been right all along.

So not fair.

She wondered how long he would rub this in her face. Probably till he found himself looking down the business end of a good ol' fashioned ass-kicking, in all likelihood. Well, _that_ she could certainly accommodate.

Max pedaled faster, zipping through the streets on her familiar trek without thought or pause.

'Logan…'

She wasn't looking forward to facing him, especially not with this confrontation looming ahead. Sure he might feel better knowing that she hadn't left him for another man—and Alec, at that—but she had a feeling he wouldn't be altogether pleased to know that she had lied to him (refrained from telling the complete truth, she corrected mentally)… or that she had seen it as something _necessary_.

Because that was why she'd done it. A necessary evil, so to speak. Hurt him, to save him.

Even if no one else seemed to agree with her.

But it wasn't working out quite how she'd either hoped or expected. Nowadays all their conversations were consumed with awkward pauses and quickly diverted glances. Now, when they needed most to push aside personal relationships and private hang-ups, to focus on the _big_ picture—the runes, the Familiars, and the growing threat the ordinaries presented. So she figured the best way about it was to "come correct", as Original Cindy would say.

Despite how much she hated the thought of Alec being right.

'Why does it always have to fall on me?' she thought with a regretful sigh. 'Why does _my_ life have to be so complicated?'

And she didn't even care about being "normal" anymore—whatever the hell that meant anyway. She just wished that things could be… simpler. Not so intense all the time. It seemed like every day that "big picture" got larger and larger in scale. She didn't want the fate of the whole damn world resting on her shoulders. She didn't want to be responsible for _anyone's_ future but her own. But if this so-called prophecy that White had spoken of, that seemed to be encoded in the runes that were surfacing on her skin, held any grain of truth—then it was her own fate that was completely out of her hands.

Man, that sucked.

A small, furred figure darted out into Max's path, putting an abrupt halt to her thoughts. Her reaction was instantaneous, though later she would curse her reflexes, for all the good they did her.

She slammed down on the brakes with as much force as possible. The bike skidded, an impressive screeching protest from the tires accompanying the motion, and rubber leaving a streak of black on the road in the process.

Max soon gave up on any thought of coming to a gentle stop and, loosening her grip on the handlebars, twisted her body until she was traveling in the front of the metal contraption. After all, she would recover; the bike would not. And no way in hell was she forking out the money to get a new one.

She hit hard, just as she knew she would. Even preparing herself for the fall couldn't save her the sudden burst of pain that ran up her side with the landing. It couldn't prevent the inevitable road rash that would come of the uncovered flesh of her right arm dragging along the pavement.

The only thing she didn't see coming was the curb that put a premature halt to her phenomenal wipeout—using her head as a rubber bumper in the process.

Stars exploded in Max's vision and then everything went temporarily black…

And slowly came back into focus again. She blinked cautiously.

'Well, that wasn't too bad.' Except for the fact that, you know, her brain seemed to have exploded in her head.

But even that lasted only a few—long, long—seconds, before the roaring in her ears eased to a more manageable purr. And neck-down, she seemed to have come out fairly unscathed…

Then she tried to move.

'Ooh, bad idea!'

Well, not that the pain was overwhelmingly terrible… she'd been through a lot worse in her life. But it seemed that her equilibrium was still off, because when she tried to get up, it felt like somebody had switched around all her wiring, and the wrong nerve endings were firing off, sending the wrong messages to the wrong parts of her body.

Lying on her side, she managed to roll over after a moment's pause. Except… she should have ended up on her back—that made sense, roll onto your back, slowly ease yourself up into a sitting position—but instead, somehow she wound up flat on her stomach.

Strange. She hadn't thought about it, just acted instinctively. You wanna get up? Move, like this.

Max flexed her hands and placed them palm-down on the pavement—and froze.

Fingers! Where were her _fingers_?

And why were her hands so small and hairy and, and—

Eyes wide with shock, and heart firing like an Uzi in her chest, Max forgot all notions of moving tentatively, and leapt to her feet—of which there were currently _two_ too many, by the way—

And screamed.

"MRREEOWW!"


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Here, Kitty, Kitty  
Genre: Humor...and other stuff too.  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: M/A-ish.  
Status: wip  
Summary: Max wanted a simpler life. She got her wish. She reaaally ought to have been more specific.

A/N: See, there's this wonderful thing about life: It has a way of shitting all over your plans. Without fanfare, or apology. This was supposed to be a quick little story—you know, rapid and frequent updates—nothing grandiose or profound about it. But... stuff got in the way.

Flying by the seat of my pants here, no betas involved. So any and all errors are mine. All MINE. And you can't take them from me!

* * *

**Here, Kitty, Kitty**

- 2 -

Max ran.

Over obstacles, around them, and sometimes even through them, where gaps and breaks afforded her smaller than normal body room to duck and maneuver.

Max ran like she'd never run before. Of course, never before had she run down on all fours, and eight inches off the ground.

'Have to get to Logan's, have to get to Logan's, havetogettoLogans...' The words circled like a mantra through her head.

She didn't slow even when the sky opened up, and a few warning drops soon erupted into a torrential downpour the likes of which the city of Seattle hadn't seen since... last week, at least. Although she did idly wonder if perhaps this all-powerful being known as God that people were always talking about really did exist, and had just decided to take her previous twenty-one non-believing years as a personal affront against him, like a yo' mama joke or a potshot at his new haircut. Because she was pretty sure that _somebody_ up there really didn't like her. And she was kind of not liking them right back at the moment.

By the time Max reached her destination, she was soaking wet, but hard-pressed to care.

She had far greater concerns on her mind. For instance, like the fact that she no longer had _hands_ could severely impede in her ability to turn a doorknob. And she couldn't knock either, so—

Or could she?

After all, the object was simply to get Logan to the door, and all that required was creating enough _noise_ to attract his attention.

Settling back on her haunches, Max raised her front paws to the well-worn door.

'I can't believe I'm about to do this...'

_Scratch._

"Mrrreow!"

'So undignified...'

_Scratch, scratch, scratch._

"Mreow, mreow, mreow!"

'_C'mon_ already, Logan! What are you doing in there?'

_Scratch_, "mreow!" _Scratch_, "mreow!". _Scratch_—

The door burst open.

"Mreow."

A very disheveled Logan appeared in its place, scratching at his mussed hair, and glasses set slightly askance on his face.

"What—?"

Max didn't wait for the confusion to clear from his features before she rushed him.

Logan stumbled backward, arms flailing in the air as a small furred figure launched itself at his person.

"Ack! Shoo! Shoo...you!"

He tried to dislodge the creature from where it clung to his pant leg. He jiggled the appendage, he hopped around, he made directive gestures with his hands. And all he got in return for his troubles was a rather disgruntled, "mrrreow!"

Finally, he grabbed a poker from the nearby fireplace and tried to pry it off himself.

Max let out an aggravated screech, shredding his pants as she launched away from his body and toward the pile of boxes and hardware cluttering one half of the room.

"No!" Logan cried out in his own panic, "stay away from there!"

Brandishing the poker in both hands, he chased after her.

Max squealed and worked her body into a small gap between two large, humming pieces of equipment she hoped were valuable enough that he wouldn't risk swiping at them.

"What the hell are you doing to that cat?"

Both hunter and prey froze momentarily at the sound of the new voice.

'Alec!'

Max felt an initial rush of relief, which quickly dissipated as she realized there was no telling how he would react to her in her new form (Logan's response being far from ideal). She huddled further into her hiding spot.

"It attacked me first!" Logan defended.

Max let out a feline gasp of outrage. She did not!

"And now it's in there, doing god knows what sort of damage to my computer."

She heard the sound of footsteps moving toward her little haven.

"Yeah, I'm sure she's sabotaging the entire system as we speak," Alec replied dryly. And then a very familiar pair of eyes met Max's own as she scooted further backward. "Hey there, kitty, why don't you come on out here?"

Max glared suspiciously at him.

"I promise I won't let the bad man hurt you," he said in a placating tone.

"Bad man...?" Logan spluttered in the background.

Alec ignored him. "If you come out, we can get you a nice warm bowl of cream."

Cream! What the hell kind of bribe was _that_ supposed to be? What did he think, that all he had to do was promise her a bowl of thick, warm, delicious...delectable...mouth-watering…

"Mreow?"

Alec's grin was bright as he carefully swooped up her wet, shivery form in one hand. Max eyed him warily, tensing to leap from his hold, but then he did something that froze her in place.

He started scratching the spot behind her ears.

'Hey! What do you think you're doing there, buddy! Personal space! No-touch zones! Keep those hands...doing...thaaat. Oh yeah, right there, right _there_. Don't stop...'

A strange, rumbling noise started in her throat, but Max was too busy concentrating on the sensation Alec's hands were creating to pay much attention. She shifted closer to him, drawn by the welcoming warmth emitted by his body.

"You like that, don't you?"

Hearing the grin in his voice, Max cracked one eye open (she hadn't even realized when she closed them), and gave him a glare.

'Don't let it go to your head, pretty boy. I'm sure anyone else would've gotten the same reaction from me... Wait, that doesn't make _me_ look too good.'

"She's a pretty friendly one," Alec observed, "I wonder is she's someone's pet."

"How do you know it's a 'she'?" Logan piped up.

Max closed her eyes again, surrendering to the pleasure of Alec's hands.

"She's a tortoiseshell. They're always female."

'Da-amn. He was really, _really_ good at this.'

"Always?" asked Logan skeptically.

"_Always_."

"Well... don't you think you ought to check? Just to make sure?"

Max's eyes flew open in horror. She leveled a warning glance, first in Logan's direction, then in Alec's. Neither man seemed to make much of it. Perhaps her glaring powers were species-specific?

Alec shook his head. "Nah, no point in risking upsetting her any more."

Max breathed a sigh of relief and cuddled back into her savior.

"Well, it—_she_—just showed up and started scratching at the front door a few minutes ago. And when I opened it, it—she—launched herself at me." Logan scratched his head. "I don't think I've seen her around here before."

Alec raised an eyebrow in the other man's direction. "You pay much attention to the neighborhood cats?"

"Uh...not really. I'm not much of a cat person."

Max glanced toward him, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Allergic," he explained. "I shouldn't even be in the same room as one... let alone _touch_ it."

'Oh great, so no matter what form I'm in, we can't touch,' Max thought with a mental eye roll, seeing as she no longer seemed capable of a physical one.

"Hmm, maybe then she's just someone's pet looking for shelter from the rain," Alec mused aloud.

'What?'

Max felt a surge of panic at the thought of being left to her own devices on the rainy streets of Seattle in her newer, diminished, and significantly weaker form.

Digging her claws into Alec's sweatshirt, she climbed her way up his chest. She stuck her face into that of the other transgenic, and plastered on the most appealing look she could manage.

Alec laughed.

"I think she wants to stay with me."

'Yes!' Max purred in agreement, rubbing her face against the worn material of his shirt.

"I guess I could keep you for a while."

'Good answer.'

"Hey," Logan spoke up suddenly, apparently not as impressed by the moment of bonding between man and cat as... the man and the cat, "you wouldn't happen to know where Max is, would you?"

"No idea, man," Alec replied, using the sleeve of his shirt to dry off his companion as much as he could. "I ran into her at JP a few runs back, but nada since then."

"Huh. She told me she was coming by a couple of hours ago," Logan mused. "And I paged her, but she's not answering me."

Alec shrugged. "I'll give her a heads up if I see her." He stood, adjusting the feline in his arms. "Oh, right. Here's a new circuit board Luke wrangled up for you." He pulled the piece out of his messenger bag and tossed it to Logan.

"Thanks."

"No prob. Alright, little kitty, whaddaya say we head home for a little food, sleep, and... well, that's pretty much it for tonight."

"Mreow," was the contented response.

Alec lifted the flap of his now-empty messenger bag. "Hop in."

Max did so, popping her head out a moment later as a thought occurred to her.

'You owe me a bowl of cream, buddy!'

**tbc**

I have no idea when I'll be continuing this next. So don't ask:P


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Here, Kitty, Kitty  
Genre: Humor...and other stuff too.  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: M/A-ish.  
Status: wip  
Summary: Max wanted a simpler life. She got her wish. She reaaally ought to have been more specific.

Notes: Better this time with the updating, right? RIGHT? Eh heheh.

Damn you Stacy with your science! Okay, so calicos can very, very, VERY rarely be males. But these are the genetic anomalies. So let's just pretend that what I said about them **always** being females... is actually 100 per cent true. Science? Who needs you!

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**Here, Kitty, Kitty**

- 3 -

They made a pit stop en route to Alec's place. Max was too busy battling with the contents of Alec's messenger bag to pay much attention to anything else. There was one particularly uppity water bottle that kept jostling her maliciously throughout the entire ride. Until one well-placed swipe of her claws put and end to all that.

Max blinked rapidly as she found herself suddenly exposed to the glare of artificial lights.

"Here we go. Home, sweet home," Alec announced, lifting her carefully to freedom.

Max jumped lightly from his hands and settled atop the kitchen counter as she quickly glanced about the familiar apartment. This would do, she supposed, as a temporary haven. Actually, it was fairly perfect. The guy was rarely home, as far she knew. That would leave her plenty of space to roam free without the fear of ending up road kill. And work on getting herself back in her body.

"What the hell?" Alec lifted the mangled water bottle in one hand as he assessed the damage to the sodden messenger bag. "Your doing, I'm guessing?" he said as he raised an eyebrow in her direction.

Lifting her nose in the air, she gave a disdainful flick of her right ear.

'Self-defense.'

Alec finished removing the rest of the contents of the bag, and hung it to dry above the sink.

'What's this?' Max poked her nose in a plastic bag she'd previously overlooked, which had been placed a bit further along the counter. 'I smell something...'

"You found it."

She watched as the bag flew away. Okay, so it didn't fly away. Alec picked it up and carried it away—toward the aforementioned sink.

"I figured I'd need to pick up a little something for you, since I don't exactly have a whole lot 'a cat food stocked in here."

Max watched him with narrowed eyes as he rifled through the drawers. Did the guy make a habit out of talking to animals like they understood him or something? Well, of course, _she_ did. But she wasn't really a cat, so this was different. And Alec was just plain weird.

Then a delicious scent tingled her nose...buds (did cats have nosebuds? was there such a thing as nosebuds?) and Alec and his weirdness were entirely forgotten.

'Tuna!'

And it was a little strange that normally she wasn't much of a tuna fan—but right now, it struck her as the most mouth-watering thing in the world.

"Here you go."

Max attacked the bowl. 'Ohhh, tuunna.'

Distantly, she heard Alec laugh.

'Eh...fuck 'im. Yum num num.'

She was licking up the final remnants of her meal when she realized embarrassedly that she'd been making a strange growling noise as she ate. Like she was killing the tuna before she ate it—and how nauseatingly cute was that?

Then she was attacked. By a towel, no less. Max rolled with her instincts, hissing and spitting as she prepared to battle her evil foe with claws, teeth, and whatever else she had at her disposal.

"Relax. Relax," she heard Alec's laughing voice coming from beyond the monster. "I just thought I'd dry you off a bit."

Realizing that wasn't an entirely bad idea (though he could've definitely given her a bit of a heads up... never mind that she had just finished thinking it was weird of him to be talking to animals like some sort of transgenic Doctor Dolittle or something), Max grudgingly settled down to let him finish the job.

"You're a scrawny little thing, aren't you?" he observed mildly.

'What the—' she sputtered indignantly. 'Am not!_'_

Max glared up at him as the towel disappeared, no longer obstructing her view of his stupid, lie-spewing face.

'I have curves in all the right places, buddy!'

She just didn't have them with her _right now_, to prove him wrong.

"Here, how 'bout a little bit of cream to help fatten you up?"

'Well... since it's sweet and delicious—because I'm _not_ scrawny!'

She watched him toss the damp towel aside (slob) and pour himself a drink before wandering over to the living room. Soon, the low sounds of the television filled the apartment.

When the bowl was well and truly empty, and her eyes strangely heavy, Max decided to join him. Leaping onto the shabby couch, she let her nails knead the surface as she tried to find a comfortable perch. Alec glanced her way once, but was apparently unconcerned about the further desecration of his already desecrated furniture. Not like he paid for it anyway. (Not like she paid for hers—and she was sure she wouldn't care if some cat decided to scratch up that ugly monstrosity either. Although Cindy probably would, considering she was the one who'd gotten it.)

Finally, she decided, what the hell. If she was going to be trapped in the body of a cat, with full cat urges, she might as well act the part without inhibition. Hopping onto Alec's lap, she wriggled her butt before nestling down into a cozy surface. And then she realized her face was on his crotch.

Jumping like she'd just been burnt, Max bounded onto his stomach, her nails finding purchase in the cotton material of his shirt.

"Fucker!" he exclaimed. "Watch the claws around the goods." Grabbing a tattered couch cushion form nearby, Alec shoved the barrier over his lap.

'Goods.' Max laughed. It sounded like a sneeze.

She soon settled back onto the cushion and yawned, purring contentedly when Alec began to scratch at the magic spot behind her ears.

Okay, so today she'd give herself a break and get some rest. Because come tomorrow, it was going to be all about figuring out what the hell had happened, and how to get back into her body. Everyone would pick up on her absence soon enough, she knew. And then.… Well, then _something_ would happen. Logan would figure something out. She just had to give it time.

"Hey, you know what?" Alec's rumbling voice cut into her thoughts, which were starting to turn toward, strangely enough, a giant ball of yarn...? "We still have to pick out a name for you."

Max cracked open one eye and gave him a look.

'What do you mean 'we'? All I can come up with is some variation of "meow."'

"I've never really named anything before. That's really more of a Max thing. Of course, she sucks at it like you wouldn't believe—"

"Mreow!"

"—but that's never stopped her. So I guess there's no reason why I can't do it too."

'So glad to provide you with inspiration. Fuckwad.' Max lifted her head, staring at him challengingly. 'Well, c'mon. Let's see what you got.'

"Huh. Well, let's see. 'Kitty' is so overdone..."

'Ya-huh.'

She began to lick at her paws absently.

"There's 'Princess', 'cause you sure act like one.'

'Humph.'

"Whiskers. Fluffy." He grinned. "Puss—"

Alec ducked back just in time to miss the sudden swipe of a set of very sharp claws aimed directly for his face.

"Whoa there, tiger!"

The look of genuine shock on his features made her purr happily.

She watched as he brushed a hand over the bridge of his nose, assessing for damage though it was obvious there'd been no contact.

'Pretty boy.'

When he was confident that no damage had been wrought, Alec gave her a considering—and vaguely suspicious—look. "How about Tiger, then? Seeing as you definitely live up to the name."

Max cocked her head to one side as she thought this over.

Finally, she shrugged. Or the kitty equivalent of a shrug, which included turning her head away and going to sleep.

Whatever. She could live with it.


End file.
